I. First Canto | Auditory
[A soft, dull whisper directed itself into the receiver with a metallic tinge, scratchy as though tired and overused.]
Mason, we do enjoy our little games, don't we? I must say this particular tactic of yours does not quite speak with the same chicanery as our usual correspondence. Your people have shown a surprising amount of courtesy, though why you've chosen to expel me from the States without the pleasure of an escort escapes me. Did your boars catch the flu..? Do tell.
[Converted to text. Encrypted.] Tell me: Did you stow me away here to keep me from the hands of the Bureau? I should think that you have enough henchmen in the Justice Department deep enough in your pockets that you needn't worry about their meddling, as it were. Surely you can't be spooked by a lone FBI agent. Still, one has to admire Agent Starling's nerve.You know as well as I that she was hot on your trail despite her..lacking in direction, last I recall.
I can't help but wonder if you mean to continue our previously scheduled appointment. Why you've chosen now of all times to ship me out of the States during such a critical moment can only mean that you believe your operations to be compromised, and as such mean to keep me here while your lackeys scramble to cover up your miserable failings. I promise I shall look forward to seeing you Mason.
Do tell, H. [/End. Text and Encryption.]
[Somehow, he suspected that this was beyond even the decrepit hands of the scheming Mason due to its irregularity in both thought and pattern, but still the Doctor wasn't worried.
The tiny, nondescript room in which he sat was almost reminiscent of the one he'd left over a decade ago-only this one did not have the lingering smells of festering mold, cold stone, stale sweat, or subterranean air. Instead, these smells were replaced by something else...His nostrils flared, drinking in the mixed scent for a moment before carefully savoring each one individually: coniferous trees, oceanic air, fresh bread from a bakery down the street...Having visited Canadian shores briefly before on his trip back to Baltimore Lecter knew the perpetual chill in the air to be distinct.]
All right then. I'll bite. Would anyone care to direct me to a restaurant known for its fresh seafood? I'm partial to Rockefeller Oysters in particular.
Mason, we do enjoy our little games, don't we? I must say this particular tactic of yours does not quite speak with the same chicanery as our usual correspondence. Your people have shown a surprising amount of courtesy, though why you've chosen to expel me from the States without the pleasure of an escort escapes me. Did your boars catch the flu..? Do tell.
[Converted to text. Encrypted.] Tell me: Did you stow me away here to keep me from the hands of the Bureau? I should think that you have enough henchmen in the Justice Department deep enough in your pockets that you needn't worry about their meddling, as it were. Surely you can't be spooked by a lone FBI agent. Still, one has to admire Agent Starling's nerve.You know as well as I that she was hot on your trail despite her..lacking in direction, last I recall.
I can't help but wonder if you mean to continue our previously scheduled appointment. Why you've chosen now of all times to ship me out of the States during such a critical moment can only mean that you believe your operations to be compromised, and as such mean to keep me here while your lackeys scramble to cover up your miserable failings. I promise I shall look forward to seeing you Mason.
Do tell, H. [/End. Text and Encryption.]
[Somehow, he suspected that this was beyond even the decrepit hands of the scheming Mason due to its irregularity in both thought and pattern, but still the Doctor wasn't worried.
The tiny, nondescript room in which he sat was almost reminiscent of the one he'd left over a decade ago-only this one did not have the lingering smells of festering mold, cold stone, stale sweat, or subterranean air. Instead, these smells were replaced by something else...His nostrils flared, drinking in the mixed scent for a moment before carefully savoring each one individually: coniferous trees, oceanic air, fresh bread from a bakery down the street...Having visited Canadian shores briefly before on his trip back to Baltimore Lecter knew the perpetual chill in the air to be distinct.]
All right then. I'll bite. Would anyone care to direct me to a restaurant known for its fresh seafood? I'm partial to Rockefeller Oysters in particular.